


Growth Opportunities: Chapter Five

by gemini_cole



Series: Growth Opportunities [3]
Category: Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: Chris Evans AU, F/M, Professor Evans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole





	Growth Opportunities: Chapter Five

“Honor! Hold up a sec, will you?”

            _So much for a quick getaway_ , she thought to herself. After the meeting had let out, Honor wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. Grimacing to herself, she paused mid-stride and slid her headphones down the back of her head, letting the thrumming base line of The Black Keys vibrate gently against her neck. She didn’t know if Professor Evans knew she’d had her music on or not, but she guessed he didn’t really care. If she’d feigned ignorance and tried to act like she hadn’t heard him, he would have stopped her another way. _God forbid_. A frisson of something hot and electric streaked up her spine at the thought.

            Finishing up his conversation with a laugh and a wave, Professor Evans sauntered over to where she stood. Without breaking his stride, he motioned for Honor to follow him, stating, “We’ve got some housekeeping to handle. Let’s head up to my office, shall we?”

            With that he set off at a brisk pace, heading for the stairs. His tone brooked no arguments, and Honor was forced to scramble after him. Of course, because it was just the way her life went, Professor Evans appeared to be in excellent shape and mounted the stairs as if he was bouncing on the fluffiest of clouds. Honor, burdened by her too heavy backpack, was out of breath after the first floor. Refusing to let Professor Evans see her sweat literally or figuratively, she grabbed the handrail for ballast and charged forward. By the time she reached the fourth floor, Honor felt like she had just reached the finish line of a 5k. Worse, Professor Evans was already halfway down the hall, unlocking his office door.

            Grimacing, Honor reached into the side pocket of her backpack, pulling out her water bottle. Taking a healthy swig, she attempted to delay the inevitable: facing the fact that she was actually working for him. The “”I’m-cooler-than-you, and smart, interesting AND gorgeous” Professor Evans. Too bad he was also a jerk. And took advantage of his position of authority. As she stopped at a nearby water fountain to refill the now-empty bottle, she tried to give herself a pep talk. _“Suck it up, buttercup. You took the job, being miserable is only going to make it worse.”_ She had almost gotten herself together, prepared to be amiable, when she turned to face him. He stood in the open doorway of his office and gestured for Honor to precede him with _that_ smirk on his face. Her fledgling goodwill vanished as she muttered, “Got something against elevators?”

            “I do, actually. Claustrophobic. Feel free to take the elevator and meet me next time.” He said it easily though, conspiratorially, as if he were trusting her with one of his biggest secrets. Honor immediately felt like an asshole, and an out of shape asshole at that. She ran around after small children for the better part of everyday. Shouldn’t she be in better shape than this? With a sigh she plunked down into one of the chairs across from his desk. Reaching into her backpack, she withdrew a notebook and rooted around for a pen.

            “Relax, Honor. I’m not testing you. You don’t need to take notes.”

            Honor threw a withering glance in his direction, but put the notebook back in her bag. She didn’t want to tell him she felt naked and ill at ease without them. She needed something, anything to do with her hands. Feeling his eyes on her, she finally settled for crossing her arms. It was better than sitting on her hands like a five year old, and at this point, she honestly didn’t care if her pose made her look like a defiant teenager in the principle’s office.

            “So,” he began, “I just wanted to get together today to go over some expectations I have of you as my TA, and what you might expect of me. I also wanted to go over scheduling, it said on your TA application that you had excellent time management capabilities, but that you needed flexibility. I need a clearer picture. As a rule, we understand that we need to work around TA’s class schedules, do you mean above and beyond that?”

            Honor took a deep breath before she began. Straightening in her seat, she replied evenly, “Yes, Professor Evans, I do mean above and beyond my school schedule-”

He interrupted. “Call me Chris, please. I’m not your professor anymore. Go on,” he encouraged.

Honor sighed. _Call me Chris_. There he was walking that line between nice guy and annoying asshole. It made it hard to get a read on who he really was.

“As I was saying, I have another job besides this job. I’m absolutely willing to work, but if possible, I’m hoping, depending on the work you want me to do, that I be able to-if for instance I were grading test for you-possibly bring it home with me, or early mornings would work too? Afternoons and nights are difficult for me because that’s usually when I work.”

            Chris paused as if digesting this news, one hand scratching his jaw. Honor could hear the rasping of his beard from where she sat. After several moments pause he replied, “Where did you say you work?” His voice sounded odd, tight and several notches higher than it usually did.

            Honor shifted in her chair. This part was always awkward. “Um. I didn’t. I work at Wee One’s daycare? My technical title is ‘Childcare technician’ but most people just call us babysitters. I work the after-school and nightshift, you know, for parents that work from like, three to eleven pm?”

            Chris leaned back in his chair, expelling a huff of laughter that rattled the papers on his desk. “A daycare worker! That’s what you do! Of course!” He shook his head as he continued to chuckle.

            Honor cocked her head, gazing at him curiously. “What did you think I did?”

            Chris stopped laughing suddenly, and sat upright again, as though chastened. “Um, nothing. I just, you know..you said you worked afternoons and nights, and I just sort of assumed…” He made a vague notion with his hands.

            Horror-struck, Honor finally realized what he was trying to say. “You thought I was a stripper! Are you _kidding_ me? Do you _know_ who my family is? My father? Never mind that I hardly have the body to work a pole. Oh, sweet ever-loving Christ on a bike!”

            Chris held up his hands in mock surrender. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should never have said anything. By the way, they prefer to be called erotic dancers. Or so I’m told.”

            Honor glared balefully at him. “Don’t you think, if I were a “erotic dancer” or whatever they like to be called, bless them, that you would have heard about it by now?” She was referring, of course to her father. Honor did her best to stay far away from his limelight, but unfortunately it was far-reaching. If she did anything too “public” it was known. And discussed. And if in anyway negative, resulted in a call from her very disappointed Mama, who no doubt had gotten an earful from the big man himself. “ _God forbid he actually pick up the phone and call me himself_ ,” she thought.

            Chris shrugged dismissively. “I don’t know. Wigs, makeup, costumes, all that can do a lot to disguise your identity. And it’s been my experience that no one really pays attention to faces in places like that.”

            Honor arched an eyebrow at him and shot back, “And you know this how, exactly?”

            He cleared his throat and at least had the decency to look a little bit bashful. “Let’s move on shall we? I’m not a huge stickler about time, as long as your work is done and done well. We can adjust your schedule accordingly, and I’m sure I’ll have work you can bring home throughout the semester. Depending on how your class schedule works out, I would like at least one day that you are here in office during the day. Do you know your class schedule yet?”

            Honor nodded, digging in her bag. Pulling out her planner, she flipped to January, where she had already written out her class schedule on the calendar. After a moment’s consultation, she announced, “Wednesdays are my only day that is almost totally open. I have class from 8 to 10 a.m., and then I’m free after that. I have half days available on Mondays and Fridays, but I have to keep one of those open each week for my front office shift, right?”

            He nodded in the affirmative. “This is a good start though. Like I said, I have no problems with the scheduling thing, just as long as I know from week to week what you have planned for hours. I expect, however,” he paused meaningfully, “that you don’t take advantage of my leniency. I have high standards for my TA’s in regards to the work you do. You are an extension of me, and I work hard to be a dependable professor. I test when I say I’m going to, and hand back papers when I say I will, which can be difficult at times, given the class selections that I’m teaching. So, any questions?” He reached forward grabbing a pen, and opening a desk drawer.

            Honor took this to mean that the meeting was over. She shook her head, bending to put her planner back in her bag. As she stood to leave, she heard Chris clear his throat. Taking that as her cue, she turned back to face him expectantly.

            Sliding a small piece of paper across the plane of his desk, he stood up, as if to walk her to the door. A feeling of deja vu washed over her as she remembered the last time this happened.

            “So, got any big plans for the winter break?”

            Honor shot him a quizzical look. She shifted awkwardly as she mumbled, “Um, no. Just working. You?”

            He shrugged. “No rest for the wicked. I’m teaching a course during the winter hiatus, so I just have the week of Christmas and New Year’s off.” He paused, as if considering his next words carefully. “Hey, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in starting work early? I could use the help, and I could pay you myself?”

            Honor didn’t know how to respond. She was sure that she could probably make more working at the daycare center, and probably enjoy it more too. On the other hand, if he was willing to work with her schedule like he said, the extra money could come in handy. Finally she just shrugged and asked, “Let me think about it?”

            Chris nodded. Picking up the paper from his desk, he handed it to her. “My cell phone number. If you change your mind, or if you decide you need me for anything. Anything at all.” He winked at her. And just like that another zing of something unknown and unwelcome rocketed through her body.

            She nodded, at a loss for words. She was halfway out the door when she snapped out of her haze long enough to practically shout, “Wait! You don’t have my number!” As she streaked back into his office and scrabbled for a pen, she was only vaguely aware of Chris laughing at her.

            Reaching out, he closed his hand over hers and squeezed gently, replying, “Honor, I’ve already got yours. It was on your application, remember?”

            Honor felt like smacking herself. “Right,” she replied stupidly. “Right. I’ll um, see you later then I guess.” She pulled her hand away from his and turned on her heel, practically running out of his office before she could make any more a fool of herself.

            As she walked home she mulled the events of the day, and everything she had heard at the meeting, as well as the events in her office. She had stupidly let her guard down for a moment. It had almost been nice talking to him, like something she could enjoy. But what if what Maggie had said was true? What if under all that niceness was just another lecherous professor? If there was anything Honor took as fact in this world was that the biggest jerks in the world could also come across as the nicest guys to get what they wanted. So who was to be believed, and what was the truth? And the biggest question of all, why did any of it matter so much to Honor?

           

           


End file.
